


A Minute

by Belle_Evans



Series: A Minute [1]
Category: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sappy, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 09:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle_Evans/pseuds/Belle_Evans
Summary: He needs a minute.





	A Minute

**Author's Note:**

> So there are probably a thousand, immediately after post-Infinity War fics. Here's one thousand and one or so. Just under the wire. The idea occurred to me not long after I saw IW, but this week makes it now or never, before there is new canon. 
> 
> I am excited to see what Endgame brings and trying to remain as unspoiled as possible.

Thor and M'Baku are waiting. Black Widow and the others, but he needs a minute. Just a minute behind this door, because his best friend and his, his...

 _“Why don't you just get married?”_

A variation on the, 'just get a room', Nat would mutter under her breath at them. The joke and the irony of course was that they had a room, literally sometimes, **a** small cramped single squat where the three of them were hunkered down, off the radar. It wasn't like they ever really did anything to warrant that directive. Most of the time when the three of them returned to wherever they were, they had just enough energy to flop down on the mattress, the bed, the couch, the floor. Even with his strength, the mental exertion, the weight of not simply being the underdogs, but the 'bad guys', sometimes was weighing. When they were fortunate, there would be space enough for them to lie down side by side, and the soft snoring beside him would lull him into a relaxed not quite sleep. 

There were post-mission, thank God, we didn't die hugs, but they haven't been intimate in the way people so effortlessly were these days. They _are_ intimate in the way their current lifestyle demands. Emotionally. He is as known to the man sitting on his right as that man is known to him. 

He understood that a lot of people nowadays weren't keen on getting married, didn't have the same pressure or find the urgency of his time, preferred living together to 'a piece of paper', but he hadn't found a specific, solid reason to reject the idea of out of hand of being 'equally yoked' with someone. _Equally_. 

 

_“Why don't you just get married?”_

Steve smiles like he always does. He glances at Sam who usually laughs or leaves the room in the places they've been where that was possible. Even if it was just to a galley kitchen. This time Sam doesn't leave the room. He just quirks an eyebrow at Steve and props his chair on two of its four legs. The two of them stare at each other for a long minute.

“Yeah?” 

There doesn't seem to be enough breath for him to get that simple word out. Steve thinks sometimes people defer to him because they still feel sorry that he missed having certain life experiences in his natural timeline. That isn't something that he needs, wants or expects here. He can't hear Nat breathing. She might be holding her breath.

“Yeah.” Sam says as he brings all of his chair legs fully to the floor. "Yeah." Leave it to Nat to propose _for_ them.

“Every great resistance has someone who's a master at the necessary paper, documentation, both the authentic and forged. I know a guy, If you want the paperwork, legit paperwork we can get it.”

He wanted the paper. All of it.

A couple weeks later, they were laying low in Malaysia when Nat turned up with a severely buttoned down man in an impeccable three piece suit with dark, close cropped hair. He reminded Steve of the men from the bank who foreclosed on people's homes. Or killed their dreams.

There was a certain inflection, an authentic salute in the man's voice when he said 'Captain' and shook Steve's hand. There was a solid military background there, but also certain choices had been made along the way to bring them here together, in the shadows. Steve understood and acknowledged that as he returned the firm handshake.

When the paperwork was complete, Sam inspected each page quietly before putting the last one down. He looked Steve in the eye as the pen in his hand hovered over one of the spaces for his signature.

“Man, are you sure?” 

He had been sure, but the light in Sam's eyes, the wonder in his voice, when he asked, cemented Steve's certainty. Steve wants people to know that he loves and is loved in this present. That he has a family. That there are greater loves than country. 

“Yes, I'm sure.” 

Sam had signed all of the papers with more than a little flourish. Steve wondered what it would be like to have those flourishes inked into his skin, never to be lost or damaged in battle. 

Nat's paperwork guy was apparently also licensed to perform the ceremony which he did with profound solemnity. 

“It would be my very great honor, Captain, Falcon.” 

Later, with the door firmly locked on the heels of Nat and the paperwork guy, “Mr. Wilson,” Steve breathes out.

As he takes a step toward his husband with a lightness in his chest he hasn't felt before. He'd grown use to the heaviness when he was a 90lb weakling. The weight that no one would want to have a life with him. Peggy might have endured, but that chance had been stolen. Now as he closes the distance, all he can say is,“Wow.” 

“Yeah, wow,” comes right back at him. “I love you Steve _Wilson_.” 

Hearing the family name for the first time out of Sam's mouth, Steve reaches greedily for him. 

“Say that again.” 

Sam does over and over, all night.

There's a small space in the suit, just the right size for the piece of paper that's been folded tiny, and tucked inside since his wedding night. Steve doubts anyone would ever ask to see it, maybe Stark but no one else. He doesn't...didn't ever want to leave room for a mistake or a misunderstanding about who Sam Wilson is in his life. His hand presses that space just above his heart. 

They had been in Wakanda for maybe five minutes when Bucky's eyes suddenly narrowed, then widened at him, before turning into a glare directed at Sam. He'd started to step between the two men, but Bucky, who was healed, better and lighter beat him. The glare remained fixed, but Bucky's natural hand extended to Sam, 

“Til the end of the line,” Bucky had said quietly. 

Sam had gripped the hand in his own, “And then a little more.” Sam's earnest reply. 

That's the image Steve clings to right now. Those two men, his family vital, alive not dust. 

Breathes a minute, then he puts 'Steve Wilson' in a box. Opens the door to the anxious, waiting assembly.

 

Bring it on Endgame -(eta: Bring it on they did)


End file.
